


Channel Surfing

by fadedink



Series: Days of Christmas - 2008 [17]
Category: National Football League RPF
Genre: M/M, NFL, RPF, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-12-17
Updated: 2008-12-17
Packaged: 2017-10-26 00:15:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/276445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fadedink/pseuds/fadedink
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Matt makes more than Campbell's Chunky Soup commercials.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Channel Surfing

**Author's Note:**

> The 'seventeenth day of Christmas', and this one's all for [](http://moonmelody.livejournal.com/profile)[**moonmelody**](http://moonmelody.livejournal.com/). Enjoy it, baby!

_**FIC: "Channel Surfing" - 1/1, PG, BR/MH, NFL RPS**_  
Title: Channel Surfing  
Fandom: NFL RPS  
Series: The Bet (interlude)  
Pairing: Ben Roethlisberger/Matt Hasselbeck  
Rating: PG  
Summary: Matt makes more than Campbell's Chunky Soup commercials.  
Disclaimer: Fiction, folks. But if you believe this really happened, I've got some prime real estate I wanna sell you…  
Notes: The 'seventeenth day of Christmas', and this one's all for [](http://moonmelody.livejournal.com/profile)[**moonmelody**](http://moonmelody.livejournal.com/). Enjoy it, baby!

  
  
_Click._

Another channel. He's bored, and there's nothing on TV tonight.

 _Click, click, click._

Images flicker across the screen, fast enough that only the subconscious registers them. Then that same subconscious latches on to a _very_ familiar voice and face.

"Did I..."

 _Click._

Yes, he did indeed. Hazel eyes stare at the screen in disbelief, listening to the words pouring out of his television speakers. It was half over when he flipped back, so when it's done, the laptop is pulled out and turned on. A few seconds later, he's watching the entire thing in all its geeky, spectacular, beautiful glory.

And laughing his ass off, curling over until he can't breathe, air coming in wheezing gasps, tears leaking from the corners of his eyes. It feels like forever before he can breathe, think, control his limbs.

That's when he reaches for the phone. Ringing and a click and a pleased, "Hey!"

"Really, Matt...Expedia.com?" It's all he can do to not burst out laughing again, and he knows it's obvious. Just like it had to have been obvious that he'd never let this one pass without comment once he found out about it. "You lose a bet or something?"

"Oh...hell..."


End file.
